Chapter 7
Interlude
Buffy hobbled into her bedroom, sighing. She had just finished her last shift at the hospital – she was now officially on leave, as her due date was two weeks away. She had stayed on for as long as she could cope, needing the money. After all, how would she be able to raise a child without a husband? Yes, it was nearly Christmas at the end of 1969 – the free love era of the sixties meant there were more single moms than ever before – but on a nurse's salary, Buffy knew that without Willow and Oz, she'd never be able to cope. 'Thank the Lord for good friends! I'da gone crazy if I didn't have them to keep me grounded. And keep me from obsessing over Angel…' A pang shot through Buffy's heart at the thought of her baby's father. In nine months, her memories of Angel were as vivid as if they had only met yesterday. She couldn't get him out of her mind, and many nights she woke up in tears, desperately wishing he was there with her. She had fallen deeply in love with the young soldier from Ireland, and she knew that she would never find another man that would touch her in the same way. 'Oh, Buffy. Stop dreaming. He's gone, long gone, and you won't see him again. Not that he'd ever forgive you if he knew what you'd done…'
Angel looked around him, and sighed. It was good to be home. After seven long months in that damn place in Florida, he had finally managed to earn enough to get back to his roots in Galway. Sure, he'd spent the best part of a month on a cargo ship to get there, but it was worth it to be home for Christmas. He'd go to stay with his Grandma in her cottage, and he'd visit his mother's grave while he was there. Lord, he missed her. She'd know what to do. Her and Kathy… Angel's mother and older sister had died when he was young, of pneumonia. Kathy had kept the young Liam grounded, and when they died, both Liam and his father had been lost. Liam took on the name Angel ever since – it had been his sister's nickname for him, borne out of irony that his innocent good-looks meant that he could get away with nearly anything. His father took him to America, running from the loss that haunted them both. Angel hadn't been back for nearly fifteen years… Fifteen years too long.
"Liam? Is that you? It's about damn time!" Angel chuckled, pulled from his thoughts by the voice of his father's mother. Never one to sugar-coat anything, he thought wryly.
"Yeah, Grams, it's me. Miss me?"
"You know it! Now come over here, and give your grandma a hug. It's been too long, my Angel. But I'm glad it wasn't longer."
Angel hugged his grandmother, and followed her inside the small cottage. Pausing, to look at his surroundings once more, he sighed. It was good to be home. And maybe now, the dreams that had been plaguing him since he had left Sunnydale Convalescent Hospital would stop. Dreams of a blonde, with blue-green eyes, always dancing, laughing, and always just out of reach…
Buffy went into labour on December 31st, 1969, and on 1st January, at precisely 12:03 am, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Faith Anne Summers was born with a thick head of blonde hair, and her father's deep chocolate eyes. Willow and Oz insisted that she was the spitting image of Buffy, but whenever Buffy looked at Faith, she saw her Angel. Rifling through her mother's things one day, a seven-year old Faith came across a pair of dog-tags with the name Liam 'Angel' O'Connor inscribed on them. When she asked Buffy, her mother took the dog-tags, and looked at them wistfully.
"Well, baby girl, these dog-tags belonged to someone your mama cares about very much. But she hasn't seen him in a long time. A very long time…" Tailing off, Buffy smiled at her daughter. "Faith, I think it's time I told you about your daddy."
